Harry Potter and the Blood Mark
by Philosophy
Summary: Harry starts off his sixth year with a surprise: a loud-mouthed American bodyguard with a quick temper and a shady past!
1. Lonely

Harry Potter stared out of his window at Number Four Privet Drive and watched the sun sink down below the scattered trees, leaving a glowing red tail streaming in its wake. Wish it would take me with it, the thought glumly. I'd druther go over the horizon to the other side of the world than stay here another minute.  
It had been several days since his return to Privet Drive, and he had already thought seriously about leaving. The first time had been the night of his arrival at Number Four, when the Dursleys had all sat down for dinner. Harry had taken his place at the table and sat there for several minutes before he noticed anything was wrong. Then he realized that Uncle Vernon wasn't shooting him nasty looks, Aunt Petunia wasn't criticizing him or even speaking to him, and his cousin Dudley wasn't throwing anything at him or even whispering vicious insults under his breath. In fact, all three of them looked straight through him, ignored his questions or comments, and pretended like he didn't exist.  
Harry had been content for awhile, seeing as no one was complaining about him or making nasty remarks about himself or his dead parents, but eventually it began to get a tad obnoxious, especially since Dudley kept clearing his throat loudly (which reminded Harry unpleasantly of last year's temporary Headmistress and High Inquisitor of Hogwarts) and saying in a thick, obviously feigned tone of surprise, "Mum, why did you put a plate in front of that place? There's no one sitting there. No one else lives here except us." For a brief second Harry entertained thoughts of taking his trunk, grabbing Hedwig, his owl, and walking straight out of Number Four forever and always. The very idea made him feel hopeful. Then he remembered that he had to stay, and scowled.  
The Durselys had continued to pretend like Harry didn't exist the entire summer, and so now, several weeks into vacation, Harry felt very lonely indeed. The Dursleys may have been horrible last year, he thought despairingly, but at least they had spoken to him. Life without any human contact at all tended to make one feel a bit put out, to say the least. There were regular owls from everyone in the Order, of course, and from Ron and Hermione, but it just wasn't the same as a good, satisfying conversation.  
Harry got up from the window and began to pace the length of his bedroom. He could hear the Dursleys downstairs; Aunt Petunia was gossiping in a horrible, fake voice with someone on the telephone, Uncle Vernon was shouting pointlessly at the evening news ("Why does that idiot of a Prime Minister keep listening to these people? They're hooligans! Lunatics! Scum!) and from the street came the pitiful cries of the next-door neighbor boy, Kevin, as Dudley and his gang beat the living daylights out of him.  
Suddenly, there came a distant sound of a dog barking. Harry froze, then rushed to the window again, pulling it wide open and staring out into the failing dusk. For several minutes he stood there, holding his breath, wishing Dudley would beat Kevin a little more quietly. Then, hearing nothing more, he sighed and slid down to the floor, burying his face in his hands.  
Why couldn't he stop doing this to himself? he thought weakly. He had spent the past few days trying to fend off the memories of Sirius, his godfather, who had died that spring while battling Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic. Harry had tried ignoring the aching, horrible pain in the bottom of his chest, but every time he heard a dog bark, he froze, thinking it might just be Sirius in his transformed dog form. To Harry, every black dog, every dark-haired man, every escaped convict on the news could and might be his godfather.  
To take his mind off of Sirius, Harry decided to work on some of the assignments he'd been given over the holiday. Perhaps, he thought grimly, he might get to work on that Transfiguration essay about animal transformations; Professor McGonagall had given the rest of the class two rolls of parchment to write, but had insisted that Harry alone write three. She had taken her promise last year that she would make Harry an Auror or die trying very seriously, because she continued to insist that he do more work at a higher level than anyone else in the class. Reluctantly, Harry rummaged in his trunk, produced a roll of parchment, a quill, a small ink bottle, and a rather large book called From Wizard to Buzzard: When Good Animagi Go Bad.  
The doorbell rang downstairs. Harry heard his aunt's voice pause: she must have gone to get the door. Harry settled back onto his bed, dipped the quill into the ink, and began to write. Whoever was at the door was none of his concern; it would never in a million years be someone who would want to talk to him. For a few seconds his quill scratched back and forth on the paper, an oddly soothing sound that made him forget Sirius, or at least think about him less than before.  
Then all of a sudden he heard Aunt Petunia scream, "Vernon! Come here! Now!" She sounded frantic. Uncle Vernon could be heard swearing, rising from the couch, turning off the television, and ambling towards the front door. Then he, too, shouted: "Damn it, why won't you lot leave us alone?" A faint voice answered him, and Harry felt a flutter of recognition at the sound until Uncle Vernon interrupted the new speaker by screaming, "No, you ruddy well can NOT speak with him! Don't you dare come in my house! Get out of it!" Harry heard the voice he was sure he knew speak again; then, grudgingly Uncle Vernon said, "Well.I guess.if you..well.I suppose in that case it can be, um.arranged." Seconds later, he was shouting up the stairway for Harry to come downstairs right away.  
Harry sighed and capped his inkbottle. At least life was unpredictable, he thought ruefully. 


	2. Persephone Peanuckle

Cautiously, Harry made his way down the stairs and into the living room. At first he only saw his uncle, looking as if he were about to have an apoplectic fit, and his frightened aunt who remained white-faced at the door. Then he caught sight of two people standing in the doorway, and he knew whose voice it was that he'd recognized.  
"Lupin?"  
His old Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher grinned at him. "Hullo," he greeted Harry, "Having a nice holiday?"  
Harry returned the grin. Lupin knew that he was definitely not having a nice holiday. "It's OK," he said off-hand, "Especially since I haven't been attacked in the street by any Dementors yet."  
Harry gestured them in, and Lupin and the other person, who had previously been hidden in the falling darkness, stepped inside. It was a woman, about eighteen or nineteen, and Harry was very interested in her for three reasons. One, she had very short, very spiky, very black hair with long bangs, and through these bangs ran two bright red streaks, one on each side, that seemed to nearly glow in the soft light. Two, she was dressed in a pretty, flowing black shirt and regular jeans, but a wand was sticking lopsidedly out of her pocket, so Harry knew she must not really be the Muggle she appeared to be. And three.she was very pretty.  
"Harry, may I introduce Persephone Peanuckle? She's a very good friend of mine, and, er, I think she'll probably end up being a friend of yours too, because-"  
"Harry!" Persephone jumped forward and wrung his hand. "I'm soooooo happy to meet you, I've always wanted to talk to you ever since I heard such great stuff about you from Remus! Everyone's always told me how totally cool you are, and I'm soooooo totally looking forward to getting to know you!" She spoke in a rapid, jumbled, breathless way, which gave Harry the impression that she was one of those people who were always excited about everything, and she had a very thick American accent, so it was a bit hard to catch everything she said without concentrating a bit.  
"Er.hi," Harry said, feeling foolish.  
"Harry," Lupin said, "I am so glad you're home. I was rather worried you might be out and about somewhere and we'd, ah-" he glanced apologetically at the Dursleys, who seemed to have turned to stone for all the movement they made, "We'd have to call again."  
"Oh Remus, this whole town is absolutely adorable!" Persephone beamed around her as if she couldn't thank Little Whinging enough for existing. "Harry, you have no idea how totally fascinating Britain is to me. I'd only ever been to London before this, and these cute little town are just so.quaint!"  
Harry was at a loss for words.  
"And," Persephone continued, "My friends are going to be soooooo totally jealous when I tell them I've met you.oh gawd, just think.they'll just DIE when I tell them this! Little old me, living with Harry Potter!"  
There was a silence. Then-  
"Uh, what do you mean.living?" asked Harry.  
"Yes!" roared Uncle Vernon, unfreezing himself from his standstill position and hurtling over to Harry, "I don't even know who the hell you are! I've bloody well had enough of you freaks, it's bad enough that you all send him messages and call him on the telephone and even show up at this house, if you please, but there's no way I'm taking any more of you lot in, one of you is enough to-"  
Suddenly he fell silent again. Persephone had marched straight up to him, looked him in the eye (which was rather challenging, as she was very short) and gave him a steely gaze. All of a sudden she seemed less kooky and more powerful, and the Dursleys all shrank away as an aura of power and confidence radiated outward from her. Slowly, she drew from her pocket a small scroll, never letting her eyes leave Uncle Vernon's face. Then, she unfurled it and held it out, and said in a voice that clearly told everyone that she was in charge, "This is an official notice installing me as Harry's personal bodyguard. I am to reside with him, make sure no harm comes to him, and notify certain persons of any evidence I may come across regarding any plotting by Lord Voldemort and his followers against Harry. It is signed by the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, and Albus Dumbledore, headmaster at Harry's school."  
Harry felt almost as shocked as the Dursleys looked. For one thing, Persephone had said Lord Voldemort's name, as if it were absolutely nothing to be afraid of, when most people in the wizarding world were afraid to even hear the name much less speak it. Also, her powerful presence, the notice she was waving at the Dursleys, and the way she'd confronted Uncle Vernon without the slightest sign of intimidation, made Harry think she must be someone important. No ordinary wizard, powerful as they might be, could just casually ask Fudge and Dumbledore to sign an official notice.  
Uncle Vernon looked as if he'd just swallowed a barrel full of lemons. His face worked furiously for a moment, and his eyes darted from Persephone to Lupin to Harry and then back to Persephone again. Finally-  
"Alright, then.if.if it's.if you promise not to.ah, what I mean to say is."  
"Excellent," said Persephone, brandishing the scroll with a very satisfied air. The aura of power and mystery dropped almost instantaneously, and suddenly she was just a short witch with strange hair again. She whipped out her wand (causing Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia to flinch and cover their faces) and pointed it towards the door, muttering "Accio trunks!" Four large scarlet trunks with gold tassels came floating in, bumping and jostling each other in their haste to enter. "Harry," Persephone trilled brightly, "Why don't you show me your room? Do you mind if I stash my stuff in there?"  
"Well, I'm off, then- just wanted to get the two of you settled," Lupin called from the doorway. "I'll see you soon, Harry. The Order's agreed to take it in turns visiting you, so I'll probably pop in and have a cuppa sometime next week." Uncle Vernon looked severely displeased with the idea, but before he could voice his objections, Lupin had Disapparated with a small pop.  
"Er.right, I'll just show you upstairs then, shall I?" Harry turned and trudged upwards again. Persephone followed, her four huge trunks banging against the stairs and the walls. Finally, they reached Harry's bedroom, and instantly Harry wished he'd kept it a bit cleaner: his dirty laundry and haphazardly strewn spell books made him squirm with embarrassment. Persephone, however, looked around and beamed.  
"Lovely! I must say, you've really done a lot with this room. I hate living in a place that's too clean and fussy- makes me feel uncomfortable, as if I'll break or wreck something if I so much as breathe." Still talking very rapidly about properly messy houses, Persephone threw open the first big trunk and pulled out what looked like a small shoebox. She set it down next to Harry's bed, took off the lid, peered inside, nodded appreciatively, and closed it.  
"Now, Harry," she continued, changing topics at the speed of light, "I wanted to give you some proper instructions and maybe some idea of what to expect here. I'm going to be your legal guardian for this year, seeing as- well, your guardians here are hardly trustworthy, and they won't exactly understand any magically-oriented problems you might come across. She pulled a face at the thought of the Dursleys, then continued. "And also seeing as, um, your previous wizard guardian is, um, no longer with us-"  
Here there was a very pregnant pause, and Persephone looked suddenly much older and worn than she had before. "Well," she said at last, "With these circumstances in mind, the British Ministry of Magic agreed that you ought to have a proper guardian for once, and in the interest of international magical cooperation, the American Ministry has extended-"  
"Hang on," Harry interrupted, anger growing deep down in his stomach, "What do you mean, 'a proper guardian"? Sirius was a proper guardian, and he-"  
"I know he was," Persephone cut in swiftly, "And I know for a fact he was an excellent wizard and friend. But the fact remains that"- she swallowed hard- "Sirius is dead, Harry, and you need someone to look after you now that Voldemort has returned. No, no arguments," she told him sternly, seeing the look on his face, "You'll just have to trust the Ministry, and trust Dumbledore, and, well, trust me too. Okay?"  
Harry felt extremely irritated: did they think he couldn't take care of himself? He'd always survived Voldemort's most intense campaigns to murder him, hadn't he? To calm himself down, Harry tried to make polite conversation.  
"Um, where- where do you want to sleep?" he asked hesitantly. "The sofa downstairs pulls out, and Dudley has another room downstairs for all his video games. The Dursleys just added it on this spring, and it's really quite comfortable."  
Persephone looked amused. "Harry, sweetheart, I'm your bodyguard," she said mischievously. "I'll be sleeping right here, next to you."  
"But we haven't got a cot or anything-"  
"Don't worry, I've got my own place right here". Persephone pointed at the shabby old shoebox.  
Harry gave her a look that plainly revealed that he thought she was barking mad.  
"Look," she giggled, enjoying Harry's confusion, "If I step inside it like this." She opened the lid of the box, put both feet inside, and promptly fell right through the floor. Harry hurried over, poking his head in and staring down into the box. It was like looking through a small hole in the floor and seeing Persephone looking up at him from the floor below, except the floor below wasn't the first floor of the Dursley's house.it was a small, lavishly furnished flat, with satin drapes and a velvet rug and a fine crystal chandelier hanging inches away from Harry's head.  
"Nice, huh?" Persephone looked around her with satisfaction. "It was a birthday gift from my colleagues at work. They all saved and saved to buy it for me. You can come visit whenever you want, you know." And with that, she waved her wand, Apparated right in front of Harry again, and replaced the lid of the shoebox.  
"Anyways," she continued, looking pleased with herself, "I've got to be around you constantly in case Voldemort or anyone pops up, haven't I?"  
Harry seized the opportunity. "Why do you say his name?" he asked quickly. "I mean, most wizards say 'You-Know-Who,' don't they? And you say 'Voldemort', as if it were nothing."  
He trailed off. Persephone's face darkened, and when she finally replied, her voice was rougher and rather choked with tears.  
"Harry," she whispered, her voice shaking with suppressed emotion, "We can't all choose the relatives we want.you should know that well enough, judging by the Dursleys.and, well, sometimes people in our families.they do stupid things.things that.well." and finally she fell silent, tugging her neon bangs and blinking very hard.  
Harry immediately wished he'd never asked. "Um, I was wondering, would you like to unpack your stuff? I can help you, if you like. Alright.uh.Persephone?"  
Persephone closed her eyes as if trying to shake herself mentally. "Of course," came the shaky reply. She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and smiled. "And Harry.call me Percy, if you don't mind." 


	3. A Visit From an Old Friend

Percy, as she insisted on being called, turned out to be great fun, and after her arrival Harry hardly knew a dull moment. Firstly, there were the fascinating gadgets and trinkets she'd brought with her from America in her four scarlet trunks. One trunk was completely filled with sweets and snacks: Droobles Best Blowing Gum, Toothflossing Stringmints, Pepper Imps, Ice Mice, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and something that looked suspiciously like a bit of Cockroach Cluster. "They're really quite good," Persephone told him, chewing a large piece thoughtfully while Harry looked revolted. "They don't taste like bugs; more like cashews, really." In addition, there were loads of sweets that Harry had never seen before and which he assumed must be sold exclusively on the American market. There were sugar-spun cowboy hats, lovely red, white, and blue hard candies that made you sing "The Star-Spangled Banner" while you sucked them, and a package of funny little squares of gum that, if you chewed them, would give you temporary gymnastic abilities far beyond what you could ordinarily do. "Stella Starsinger's Extra-Stretch Chewing Gum," Percy told him gravely. "Wonderful stuff, Harry. I've been known to do triple back flips and six consecutive summersaults on a balance beam with that gum in my mouth. Of course, our Ministry has a terrible time controlling it; wizards keep smuggling it out to the Muggle world, trying to sell it to Muggle athletes who want to win the Olympic games without having to do any training at all, you see."  
In another trunk she'd brought her pet Kneazel, Stardust. Stardust resembled a lovely white cat, except for her large, bat-like ears, her lion's tail, and the bright green spots covering her glossy coat. "Kneazels make excellent pets," Percy told him as she pulled Stardust out of her gilded silver cage. "They're super smart, they have a great sense of independence, and they can definitely protect you as well as any guard dragon. Plus, they're kinda like live Sneakoscopes; they can sense dangerous or untrustworthy people, and that can come in handy when you're-"  
Suddenly she stopped talking, pausing as if she had caught herself about to say something forbidden.  
". when you're a bodyguard to the famous Harry Potter," she finished hastily, and ignored the curious glances Harry kept shooting at her for several days.  
But Percy was at her most entertaining when she and Harry talked Quidditch. Being from the United States, she knew all about American Quidditch teams, and told Harry long and exciting stories about her favourite team, the Fitchburg Finches, and their thrilling matches with a rival team, the Sweetwater All-Stars. Her preferred topic of conversation in the realm of Quidditch was the Finches' star seeker, Maximus Brankovitch III, who, according to Percy, was "absolutely the most amazing, ruggedly handsome, and wildly talented man ever to hit the Quidditch pitch." Harry silently disagreed, but six years in the wizarding world had taught him not to argue with a young witch over how good-looking her favorite Quidditch player was.  
Percy, however, wasn't the only person in the wizarding world with whom Harry had contact. Lupin, good to his word, dropped in at regular intervals to check up on Harry, often bringing along another member of the Order. One time Mad-Eye Moody had come for tea, growling about Harry's mistreatment at the hands of Muggles and leering unpleasantly at the Dursleys, who were all three starting to show the strain of putting up with a constant stream of wizards. Aunt Petunia tended to burst into tears at odd moments of the day, Dudley had actually lost fifteen pounds from hiding in his room without having access to the refrigerator, and Uncle Vernon had developed a tick in his right eye that sometimes caused him to have to sit down for a bit and drink copious amounts of brandy.  
~*~  
It had been several weeks after Percy had arrived, and she and Harry were sitting outside enjoying the lovely summer weather. Percy had also brought with her two lovely folding chairs, which could be compressed into a small bundle the size of a Galleon and popped right into a pocket or a handbag. It was in these chairs they were sitting, and Percy was explaining to Harry the finer points of Quodpot, a wildly popular wizarding game in America that was similar to Quidditch except for the fact that the Quaffle (which was called the Quod in this case) tended to blow up at odd moments during the match.  
"But, isn't that.a little distracting?" Harry asked. "I mean, isn't it a lot more complicated?"  
"Yeah, but you know us Americans. We love surprises!" Percy quipped.  
"Do you?" came a third, unknown, voice. "How about this for a surprise, then?"  
Immediately, with no reaction time whatsoever, Percy rolled out of her chair, leapt in front of Harry to shield him from the speaker, and whipped her wand out in front of her. For several seconds, no one moved. No one seemed to be there. "Show yourself!" shouted Percy as she pushed Harry to the ground and forced him to remain behind her with his head tucked down on his knees.  
"Leaping leprechauns, Percy!" came the voice. "It's only me! Don't shoot!"  
And Tonks materialized out of thin air, pulling off what seemed to be an Invisibility Cloak.  
Still Percy remained tense. "How do I know it's really you, Nymphadora?" she called suspiciously, her wand held at the really.  
"Don't call me Nymphadora!" Tonks shot back. "It's Tonks, and you know it."  
Instantly, Percy relaxed. "Tonks, you idiot," she grumbled, looking rather pleased in spite of herself. "You could have acted like a normal witch for once and let me know you were coming."  
Tonks flew at Percy and hugged her tightly. "You're the stupid one," she muttered, her voice muffled by Percy's left shoulder. "You're the one who has to go diving all about, scaring Harry near to death and making a scene. If anyone's a git, it's you, Percy."  
Percy grinned.  
When Tonks finally released Percy, she was offered a seat in the yard; a third folding chair had mysteriously appeared and Tonks flopped down in it with the air of someone who has been working much harder than she ever has in her life. Her eyes looked tired, and her face was weary in spite of her infectious grin. "Had some fun with a couple people on my way here," she told Harry as Percy conjured a goblet of Firewhiskey for her out of thin air. "I made my hair look like writhing snakes. Scared the security wizard at the Ministry Atrium. Thought I was Medusa or something. It was quite entertaining."  
"Tonks, you really need to quit that," Percy replied sternly. "One of these days they're going to hit you with some jinx or other and then you'll be hauled in to the Wizangamot.good God, just think of what a bad image that would make for all the Aurors in your Ministry."  
Tonks winked.  
"Percy and I worked together once, in the same office," Tonks told Harry. "It was back when she came over to do some work for our Ministry, about two years ago. She's not only one of my best friends; she's also a world-famous nag! And the best part is, she's worse than I am! Oh, you should see some of the stuff she pulls off.bashing all over London with me on an illegal flying carpet, partying all night with those Latvian warlocks, and of course there was the time she dated that guitarist for the Weird Sisters.what was his name again?"  
"All I'm saying is that your job is at stake," Percy replied calmly, "And if you were sensible you'd stop doing this sort of stuff."  
"Well, I think my Ministry might take it better than you'd think, Percy.but not as well as your Ministry would, I hear. We've been getting all sorts of rumors about your lot, and how the Americans are becoming more- "  
"You know very well that I can't discuss that, not with Harry here."  
Tonks looked astonished. "You mean you haven't told him ANYTHING?"  
"Well," Percy cried, her voice rising impatiently, "Fudge expressly told me that he'd prefer it if Harry didn't know, and that way he couldn't try and garner any favors-"  
"Oh come off it, Harry wouldn't do that!" Tonks countered. She had a slight smile on her face, as if she were trying to goad Percy into doing something.  
"I know that!" Percy practically shrieked, "And YOU know that, but Fudge is a different breed! I just don't understand that man! He wants to be all secretive and sly, but he doesn't give me any suggestions as to what alias I should come up with! It's as if he thinks Harry is stupid or something! I can't believe that your people can put up with him; honestly, I can't see how you work there with that kind of foolishness going on! And don't you dare laugh," she hollered at Tonks, who was bubbling over with laughter and attempting to hide her grin behind her hand, "Because you know what kind of situation I'm in, you know how hard I had to work to get where I am, to throw off the stigma of my birth, and.and.NYMPHADORA TONKS DON'T YOU LAUGH AT ME!"  
And then, amid Tonk's roaring laughter, her load of black, spiky hair shot up in electric yellow flames. 


	4. Death Eaters and Dreams

"Oh, bloody hell, now I've done it," Tonks chuckled, pretending (unconvincingly) to be disappointed in herself. After Tonks had conjured up several buckets of water to put out Percy's head, and after Percy had told her off thoroughly ("You KNEW I was going to do that, you deliberately PROVOKED me, Nymphadora!" "Of course I did, and its not Nymphadora, it's TONKS, already!") Percy suggested that they go inside. "Don't want to be overheard out here in the street," she said easily. All three of them hurried into Number Four, up the staircase, and into Harry's room. Uncle Vernon, who had been watching them nervously from the front window, barely had time for a sputter of rage before the door slammed in his face. "Now," Tonks said brusquely, "Before I start here, Harry, I want you to understand that this is really sensitive information-" "Of course," Harry cried. What, did they think he was a baby, unable to be trusted with their stupid "top secret" stuff? "You misunderstand us, Harry," Percy told him gently, seeing the look on his face. "We know that you're trustworthy, and we know that you'd never, ever betray us. That's not even an issue. We just wanted you to understand that EVERY SINGLE THING that is said between now and the end of the conversation is totally secret. Even when it seems like it might be something totally obvious or generally known or even when it might seem like a joke, you can't repeat any of this, not even to Ron or Hermione. Yeah, I know," she hurried on, seeing Harry's mouth work furiously, "I know you'll tell them anyway, but.just don't. We'll tell them as soon as we see them, but we gotta make sure that when we DO tell them, we're not where we could possibly be overheard. OK?" Harry nodded, squashing his impatience. "OK, so this is what's been going on," Tonks began, settling herself on Harry's bed while Harry and Percy sat expectantly on the floor. "There's been no killings yet, but a couple of the Ministry's Aurors have had some close calls. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named sent a couple of old Death Eaters to kill Hestia Jones' mum; nobody knows why, exactly, but me 'n' Kingsley both were on the team that had to fend 'em off. We think one of 'em might have been Macnair, but he wasn't as high on the list of Voldemort's favourite Death Eaters as Lucius Malfoy or Peter Pettigrew. Anyways, he Disapparated before we could snag 'im. How about you, Percy?" "Well, the big news at the American Ministry is that we've-well, that is to say, the Minister has- cancelled the World Cup. It was supposed to take place in Montana this year, but our Department of International Magical Cooperation drafted this report for the Minister that said all sorts of things.like how there's a very significant chance that Voldemort (Tonks flinched) might just show up with all his cronies and wipe everyone out. So, ah, the Minister cancelled it, and all the other Ministries are in an uproar. It'll be the first time in many years that the Quidditch Cup's been cancelled. Of course, the American wizarding public isn't all that upset yet, but if the Minister bars the Quodpot Finals all hell will break loose." Tonks rolled her eyes. "Your lot's STILL on about that Quodpot stuff?" "Yep. And I tell you, Tonks, if I'm.if.if we're forced to.to take away Quodpot.there'll be riots. And.and, I'm afraid, Tonks. What if.what if it gets out about.about him.I'll be thrown out for sure." Suddenly Percy looked petrified. "Well, anyways, it won't come to that, I'm positive," Tonks replied bracingly. She seemed to be casting about for something to say that might take Percy's mind off of the impending chaos. "Um, how's that new bloke you've been seeing? Um.William 's his name, right?" "Yeah. William. Right," Percy replied, looking somewhat heartened. "He's wonderful, absolutely great. Actually- and I don't mind telling you this, the both of you- I'm expecting a proposal soon!" Tonks squealed excitedly, bombarding Percy with questions about the possible engagement. Harry felt mildly revolted. Girls ARE all the same, he thought disdainfully. First it was Cho, getting all weepy about Cedric at the most inconvenient times, and now Percy and Tonks were both getting all excited about something which hadn't even happened yet! Suddenly a thought struck Harry, leaving him a bit in awe.would Hermione ever start being all stupid and strange? Or was she just a more sensible girl than most? "Yes, he's very good looking," Percy giggled, jolting Harry out of his thoughts. "He's got this long hair, very long, he's tied it back into a ponytail, and his eyes are lovely, and he's got this long earring like a dangling fang-" Long hair? Ponytail? Fang earring? "Hang on!" shouted Harry, his mind racing. "Has he got red hair as well?" Percy looked sheepish. "Yeah, he does. Sorry, Harry, I meant to-" "Bill Weasley! You're engaged to Bill?!?!?" "We're not engaged yet," Percy told him, looking ruffled. "I only said that I thought-" "But.but Bill's got to be loads older than you-" "That, I'm afraid, is none of your concern." "But Percy, if he's-" "Let's move on," Tonks called loudly over both of them. "Percy, the next meeting of the Order is coming up, so be ready.Dumbledore'll want a full report from you, and you might need to go in to our Ministry and talk to Fudge." "Oh, daft old Corny can come to my office if wants to talk, the old git," Percy muttered crossly. "If he can manage to run your Ministry without having any courage or sense, he can sure as hell Apparate across the Atlantic." "Have it your way, then. Just make sure you talk to him either way, OK? Harry's under your protection, but he's still the concern of Britain-" "He's the concern of the entire wizarding world, Tonks, as I've already explained to Fudge," Percy retorted, her head looking dangerously flammable. Tonks sighed. "Right. Anyways, I've got to be going, but I'll be back next week. Say hullo to Will- I mean Bill- and make sure you let me know when the engagement is official, OK? If I have to hear it from Kelly Hattersfield in the office you'll be in trouble." And with a loud, sudden crack, Tonks was gone. On the night before his birthday, Harry was sitting on his bed feeling rather low. He hadn't had a birthday card or a package or anything.it wasn't his birthday quite yet, but even so he'd figured that at least someone might have contacted him sooner. Suddenly he realized that he was anticipating cards and presents, even EXPECTING them, for the very first time. "I'm getting soft, I am," he muttered to himself. "Pretty soon I'll start expecting the Dursleys to like me or Voldemort to apologize." Percy was still downstairs talking to her girlfriends from home over the Floo Network. Every once in awhile Harry could hear giggles and exclamations of "He did WHAT?" and "Come now, he's a dolt, don't worry about that creep." Rather than wait for her to return, Harry decided to go to sleep. He could, after all, look after himself, he told himself grumpily as he set his glasses on the nightstand and pulled the sheet rou8nd him. It wasn't as if Voldemort could attack him here; not with that ancient magic thing that Dumbledore had told him about. Ironically, living with the Dursleys was what was keeping him alive.  
Slowly Harry drifted off to sleep. His dreams were dark and heavy, only interrupted by the occasional, "She's SUCH a total tramp," and "Oh my God he is so hot!" from Percy's set.  
He was sitting in a large, drafty room he'd never seen before. In some ways it reminded him of the courtroom where he'd been tried by the Wizengamot last autumn; the dim lighting and lack of windows suggested a subterranean area, and the air was thin and cold. An old wizard, older than any he'd ever seen, sat at a heavy oak desk on an elevated dais. An American flag stood at the corner; beside it and slightly lower flew a flag Harry was quite unfamiliar with.  
The old wizard began to speak in a slow, ponderous tone. "You are accused of passing secret information to supporters and cohorts of Lord- well, of You-Know-Who. You are further charged with deceiving the wizarding public into ignoring you unknown past and therefore misleading them, possibly depriving them of the opportunity to accurately judge your ability to hold your public post. Do you understand the charges brought against you?"  
Harry was bewildered. Not again, surely! How could they accuse him of all that! He was only fifteen; he'd never held public office in his life! Was this a prophecy? Would he, Harry, become a Ministry official, only to be thrown out on charges of espionage?  
Suddenly a familiar voice answered from beside him, trembling with fright. "Yes sir. I understand the charges as presented today by this court."  
Harry turned. Sitting next to him, looking weary and close to tears, was Persephone Peanuckle herself.  
Harry awoke with a start. For several minutes he lay in bed panting with shock, barely noticing the sunlight creeping over his windowsill and flooding into his room. What WAS that dream all about? Was it the future? Or was Voldemort simply breaking into his mind like he had last time, forcing him to believe untruths?  
Gradually Harry relaxed. Sometimes, dreams were DREAMS. Not portents, not hallucinations, not tricks.just DREAMS. Slowly he sat up, expecting to see the comfort of his room as it usually was.  
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
A baby Hungarian Horntail was staring him in the face. 


End file.
